


cutting down the family tree

by bergamot (madocallie)



Series: forging the flame emperor [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Body Horror, Family, Family Drama, Gen, Medical Experimentation, Medical Torture, essentially: the hresvelg family fanfic, this fic is NOT a happy one; so tread carefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-07 12:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20975714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madocallie/pseuds/bergamot
Summary: Anecdotes of the eleven Hresvelg children.And a spiritual prequel toweighed and measured inside





	1. beginnings

* * *

**I - Frederick**

* * *

Frederick von Hresvelg was many things, but “patient” was not one of them. 

He paced back and forth, his grumbles echoing throughout the marble halls of the Imperial palace. His other siblings had gone off to play, but Frederick, being the stubborn little toddler that he was, insisted on being the first to see the new baby. In fact it was _ imperative _for him - once the baby was born, he would no longer be the youngest Hresvelg. Finally - someone to boss around!

But the wait was unbearable. How long had it been since the entrance to the bedroom was slammed shut? Frederick had pressed his ear to one of the large oaken doors a few minutes ago, but heard nothing. He had tried to get a peek at what was going on from underneath, but failed to see anything of note.

In frustration, the toddler laid flat on one of the palace’s many expensive carpets and began to whine. If no one would let him know what was going on, he’d _ make _ them. He’d fuss and whinge and cry until someone let him in to see the new baby. Though his father disapproved of this behavior, it usually got Frederick what he wanted in the end.

As if on cue, a maidservant opened the door. However, it wasn’t because of Frederick’s whining. No, she had exciting news to bring!

At least, she _ was _going to bring exciting news, until she encountered an all-too familiar toddler fussing face-first on the floor. 

The young woman crouched down with a heavy sigh. She clearly wasn’t paid enough for this.

“Frederick, what’s the matter?”

“The baaaaaaaaaaby…” the toddler sobbed, his voice muffled by the thick fabric of the carpet. “I wanna, hic, see the, hic, baaaaaaaaaaaaby…”

“Well, guess what?” the maidservant said, trying her very best to maintain a cheerful disposition. “The baby’s here.”

“Huh…?”

“Yes, the baby’s here!” she repeated. “You’re a very lucky young man, you know. You’re a _ big brother _ now. Imagine that!”

The young woman gestured wildly in an attempt to both impress and soothe the small child. To her relief, Frederick stopped crying.

“Would you like to see for yourself?” she cooed, as he turned up to face her.

The toddler nodded. Then, the young woman took his hand and led him through the door.

Inside, the room was a rabble of maids, midwives and magic-users. Frederick and the maidservant squeezed themselves through the chattering crowd to the center of commotion; his mother’s canopy bed. 

And there his mother was; with those kind lavender eyes he knew so well. From what he could see, she looked exhausted. Her hair was disheveled, sweat beading on her pale forehead. But she was smiling; lips curled with delight at a tiny bundle of cloth in her arms.

Then, she caught sight of Frederick, and gently beckoned him over to the side of her bed.

As the toddler pushed himself up to lay beside his mother, she chuckled. “My, Frederick - you’re eager about being a big brother, aren’t you?”

Frederick nodded excitedly, and her smile grew wider.

“I’m glad,” she whispered, and wrapped her free arm around the small child. Then, she brought the bundle in her other arm closer.

“Frederick, say hello to your little sister.”

The toddler shifted over on the bed to get a closer look at the bundle. Wrapped within the cloth was a tiny infant with rosy cheeks and beautiful, piercing eyes. She reminded him of one of the many porcelain dolls Brigitta invited to her tea parties.

“Her name is Edelgard.”

“Hello, Edelgard,” Frederick whispered, and gently waved his hand. 

* * *

**II - Clarimonde**

* * *

“Eat _ THIS_, poop-head!!”

“OW!” cried Stefan, as a snowball hit him squarely in the face. With his right hand, he brushed the cold crumbs away. “What was _ that _ for, Clara?!”

“Oh, _ come on_,” scoffed Clarimonde, crossing her arms. “You knew you had it coming.”

“What, because I said you _ wouldn’t _ get into the Officer’s Academy?”

Clarimonde’s face flushed, and she quickly looked down. With her foot, she began to draw circles on the snowy ground. “Maybe,” she muttered, hoping her older brother wouldn’t hear her.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that?”

“I said, _ MAYBE!” _ Clarimonde yelled, stamping her foot. “What, are you _ deaf _ as well as stupid?”

“Ugh, you’re so _loud_,” Stefan whined. “Can I just... explain myself?”

Clarimonde looked up again at her older brother, and scowled. “Fine. So why _ did _you say that?”

The older boy shook his head. “Well, it’s your... _attitude._”

“And what about it?”

“You’re really, _ really _ hot-headed. And rash.” _ And stupid, _Stefan thought to himself.

“That hasn’t stopped _ some _ people from getting in,” the younger girl grumbled. 

“Yes_,” _ Stefan sighed. “But most of them are commoners. They can get away with that sort of thing. _ We, _however-”

“...are members of the nobility. And of the _ esteemed _ imperial family,” finished the younger girl. “We have to set an example for the rest of the people of Fódlan.”

“Indeed!” Stefan said, puffing out his chest in pride. “And it is _ precisely _ because of this that a Hresvelg has not attended the Officer’s Academy for…”

He paused. How long had it been since a Hresvelg last enrolled at Garreg Mach?

“Not since _ Dad _ went, Stefan,” Clarimonde said. Then, she huffed in frustration.

“I know it’s gonna be a gajillion years before I’m old enough to go… But it makes me really, _ really _ mad when you say I won’t get in. You know I wanna learn to fly a pegasus and-“

“Yes, Clara, I _ know _ how hard you work. I just…” 

“You just… what?”

“I just…” Stefan repeated more quietly. “I just don’t want to see you hurt if…”

“If things don’t go my way?” the younger girl snorted. “I’m a big girl. I can take it.”

The cold, frosty air between the two siblings grew tense. Clarimonde continued to draw trails in the snow with her foot, while Stefan slowly shook his head in disbelief.

Then, Stefan broke the silence. 

“Clara, remember when you found out about El’s Crest?”

Clarimonde tensed. The foot she used slowly dragged itself back to it’s twin’s side, parting the snow enough for the stone floor of the Imperial gardens to peek through. 

“Stefan, don’t you _ dare-”_ she growled.

Stefan ignored her.

“You were crying and screaming about how you were _ never _ going to pursue your dreams. How you _ never _ got anything you wanted because of her. You said you wished El was never born, cursed her mother for playing favorites-“

“I said _ sorry _ to them afterwards!” Clarimonde yelled, loud enough to frighten the garden sparrows. “Stop making such a big deal out of it!”

“You did, yes. But you still hurt them,” Stefan concluded. “Nobles shouldn’t treat their siblings like that - _ especially _ ones with crests.”

Clarimonde couldn’t say anything back. It had been a week since the incident occurred, but she still smarted from the pain. 

The pain of possibly never being her family’s priority anymore. 

The pain of her harsh words towards Edelgard, who winced at her curses and accusations. 

The pain of knowing that Stefan was right.

But she didn’t want to give him another reason to patronize her. So, Clarimonde bent down and began to mold another snowball with her glove-clad hands. 

* * *

**III - Gisela**

* * *

At seventeen, Gisela von Hresvelg could simply be summarized as an avid bookworm.

She didn’t know _ how _ her avid love for the literary came about; but she had an inkling about _ why_. Out of the eleven Hresvelg children, many considered her the shyest. Gisela hated attending mandatory meetings, group lessons with the imperial governess, and the occasional family outing to places further south than Enbarr. 

Her home was the grand Imperial library. Though it has started small as a gift from the Archbishop, the collection grew and grew until it amounted to an entire ballroom’s worth of books. Tomes of all shapes, sizes, ages and origins lined the alabaster shelves of the library. 

It was Gisela’s mission to read every last one of them.

Well, that was a bit of an overstatement. She wanted to read every last book that _ interested _ her. Gisela had a penchant for tales of knights, dragons, fairies… But she lost count of the number of times she read the _ Loog _ cycle from cover to cover, amongst other collections of Fódlan’s folk tales. Someday, when she was married off to some noble she wouldn’t give less of a rat’s ass about, she’d write her own stories. 

But for now... her literary palate needed improving.

Gisela made her way over the polished floor to a shelf near one of the library’s grand glass windows. _ The history shelf, _she mentally noted, as her left hand brushed the leather-bound spines of the tomes tucked within. It hovered over one particularly thick specimen, and with a little tug, Gisela pulled the book free.

_ A Detailed History of Fódlan_. Though she wasn’t well-versed in historical literature, she knew this book was Father’s favorite. In the few times that he was off-duty, he carried it around with him. And surely, if he liked it, she’d like it too, right?

Carefully, the bespectacled girl opened to the first page... 

And then, something fell, and clattered to the floor. Gisela paused, and looked down.

A bookmark? She picked the offending object up, and examined it. It was thin, and wooden, with an intricate carving of the Hresvelg crest. A beautiful red tassel hung off of it. Flipping it around, Gisela found a name carved on the back. 

_ Edelgard. _

Gisela frowned. Why was Edelgard’s bookmark here? As far as the bespectacled girl was concerned, a child of Edelgard’s age could only read _Loog and the Maiden of Wind_; and the _children’s_ edition, at that. 

Unless… Edelgard really was as precocious as she acted. Or...

She shook her head. No, it couldn’t be. Even after Wallace and Hannelore were born, Father had reassured the Hresvelg children that he’d never play favorites. Whether or not they were physically fit, smart, or the chosen heir, he’d love them all the same. 

And, like the rest of her family, she had believed him. 

But sometimes, Gisela doubted. Edelgard felt… separate from the rest of the siblings. She could outpace Brigitta and Roth in foot races. She was unusually level-headed for a seven-year old, socializing with people several years her senior. Whether these traits came from her Crest or not didn’t matter — it was clear that her younger sister was a special child.

There were times when Gisela resented Edelgard. But that was when she was young and foolish. Nowadays, Gisela didn’t really care whether that serious sister of hers _ was _ her Father’s favorite. Maybe she had grown cynical, or maybe she was being honest with herself. It would be very difficult for Father _ not _ to play favorites with eleven children — especially ones with different mothers. 

Besides, favoritism wouldn’t affect Gisela’s future _ that _ much. She knew she wasn’t cut out to be an emperor.

The bespectacled girl sighed, and waved her thoughts away with her free hand. She sat down on a nearby cushioned chair, and tossed Edelgard’s bookmark on the table next to her. 

Then, she took out her own cloth bookmark, and began to read.

* * *

**IV - Adelaide**

* * *

“Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth… aaaaaaand you’re done!”

Adelaide smiled at Brigitta as she finished plaiting her younger sister’s right pigtail in front of the mirror. As the oldest of the Hresvelg children, she often found herself doing her sisters’ hair instead of the maidservants. Not only did it relieve the maids from yet another arduous task, it also helped her bond with the younger Hresvelg daughters. 

Well, _ some _ of her younger sisters. Hannelore still didn’t have enough hair to play around with. Gisela didn’t care much for appearances, or, in her words, “for surface-level things”. But they often watched their other sisters have their hair plaited, pulled, combed and decorated by their older sister’s deft hands. At the very least, they appreciated her talent.

Brigitta gave her a chipper “Thank you!” and hopped down from the decorated vanity stool. Adelaide couldn’t help but grin as she watched her skip to the nearby canopied bed. There, Edelgard and Clarimonde sat, waiting to have their own hair styled. Meanwhile, Gisela laid on a nearby chaise-longue, with a soundly-asleep Hannelore on her chest.

“Clara, you’re next.”

With her usual brashness, Clarimonde marched over and sat herself down on the vanity stool. With a flip of her tousled locks and a quick cross of her legs, she gave her older sister a cocky grin.

“You know the deal, Addy. Gimme my usual.”

The older girl nodded. Clara liked things simple. _ And simple it shall be, _thought Adelaide to herself. In one, practiced motion, she gathered her younger sister’s thick locks into her left hand. After a few brushes and some gentle twisting, Clara ended up with her signature hairstyle — a large, bushy side-ponytail. Perfect for riding. 

Then, it was Edelgard’s turn. As she made her way up to the vanity, Adelaide couldn’t help but notice that she neither skipped, nor marched, nor shied away. She simply walked, and sat on the stool. 

“I think two ponytails would be nice for today,” Edelgard said, in her usual refined way.

“Of course,” Adelaide said, smiling at her younger sister. “Would you like your special ribbons?”

Edelgard nodded firmly. She loved her special ribbons; the thin, lilac ones Adelaide surprised her with for her eighth birthday. It was such a simple gift, and yet Edelgard wore them every single day. It was her own way of thanking her oldest sister.

But before Adelaide could reach for the ribbons, the younger girl held up her hand. 

“Actually... Addy?”

“Yes, El?”

“Could…” Edelgard stammered. “Could you teach me how to do it myself? I want to do my hair as pretty as you do.”

At her younger sister’s request, Adelaide beamed. Had she not been a Hresvelg, she would’ve loved to teach. In the few times that she took over the family governess’s job, she adored encouraging her younger siblings’ curiosity. 

“I’d be _ more _ than happy to.” 

Then, she beckoned her other sisters over to the vanity’s vicinity. Clarimonde peered over Edelgard, while Brigitta sat down on the floor beside her younger sister. As for Gisela, she continued to watch from afar, Hannelore still resting on her chest.

Adelaide crouched down so that her reflection could be seen at Edelgard’s eye level. She gently draped her hands on her younger sister’s shoulders. 

“This may be a little hard to grasp at first, but are you ready?”

Another firm nod. 

“I’m glad,” Adelaide whispered, and wrapped her arms around the younger girl. “I’m so happy you’re part of our family, El.”

Edelgard leaned back into the embrace, and gave her sister a small smile.

“I love you too, Addy,” she whispered back. 

* * *

**V - Wallace**

* * *

Wallace’s gut told him that something was wrong.

He knew his memory wasn’t very good, but he _ swore _Edelgard and his mother were chatting together at the lunch table yesterday. He remembered how his mother spooned a helping of saghert and cream onto her plate, how his older sister held out the dish in her usual, dainty way…

But today, he couldn’t find them anywhere. 

He checked El’s room this morning. Nothing. Then, he checked his mother’s room. Still nothing. _ Where could they be? _

Maybe his brothers and sisters knew where they went. Well — maybe not _ all _ of them. Hannelore was always _ so _ sleepy. He’d avoid her.

First, Wallace made his way to the Imperial library. Though he was only seven, his Crest let him walk quickly through the palace’s vast halls. And within a few minutes, he found Gisela tucked away in the furthest corner of the grandiose room, flicking quickly through a thick tome. As he made his way towards her, he noticed more and more books tossed carelessly across the polished floor. 

“Gisela?”

“_Go away, _Wallace. I’m busy.”

“But… I have a question.”

Gisela groaned, and looked up. “Ugh. What is it?”

“Where’s El and Mommy?”

His older sister shook her head. “Go ask Leonard or Roth. I’m busy.”

Not wanting to bother Gisela any longer, Wallace nodded, and made his way out.

Then, he ran to the Imperial gardens. After searching high and low through the walls of flowers and leaves, he found Roth tucked away in one of the empire’s prized rose bushes. His older brother peered intently at one flowerhead, watching a caterpillar chew through the velvet petals. Wallace gently tapped him on the back, and Roth turned around, startled. 

“Brigitt— I mean, _ Wallace,_” he corrected himself. “W-what are you doing here?”

“Where’s El and Mommy?”

“Why… why would I know that?” Roth said, frowning. “Besides, your mom isn’t mine.”

“But you’re really really good at hiding in places where people can’t easily find you, so I thought that maybe…”

“Yes, but I don’t do it to _ stalk _ people!” his older brother cried.

Then, more quietly, he added, “I’m in the middle of a hide-and-seek game with Brigitta. If she finds me, I’ll have to do her homework tonight! _ Don’t jinx this for me. _”

Wallace was all too familiar with the twins’ gambits with one another, and nodded briskly. Then, he snuck out of the leafy enclosure, and made his way back to the palace; whistling as if nothing had occurred. 

Throughout the day, the youngest brother of the Hresvelg family asked every single one of his siblings about Edelgard’s and his mother’s whereabouts.

Frederick and Brigitta had no idea. Clara, Addy, and Stefan said something about Uncle Volkhard and an opera, but refused to tell him anything else. He’d learn when he was older, they chided.

That left Leonard; his oldest brother. 

Wallace and Leonard weren’t the closest of siblings. They had different mothers, and different attitudes to match. While Wallace was a sweet, easygoing boy, Leonard was, as Addy liked to say, “constantly on tenterhooks”. Though Wallace had no idea what the saying meant, he knew it suited his brother perfectly.

So, where else would he be but the emperor’s office? 

As quietly as he could, Wallace made a beeline for the room. 

At the doorway, the young boy found Leonard pacing back and forth across the small enclosure, hands threaded deep within his long, wavy locks of hair. He was muttering something under his breath, and his face was knitted in some mixture of… anger and fear? Wallace couldn’t tell. 

Gulping, the youngest Hresvelg son shakily stepped forward. As soon as Leonard sensed that someone else was within the room, his pacing stopped.

“Who’s there?” he barked. “I don’t appreciate any intrusions, _especially_ not now!”

“It’s me,” quivered Wallace. “W-Wallace...”

Leonard’s expression softened at the sight of the small child. He crouched down to meet his younger brother’s gaze.

“I apologize,” he sighed. “It’s just- there’s so much going on, what with a potential uprising and all that, and…”

He stopped himself, and then started again. “Did you need something?”

“Do you know what happened to Mommy and El?”

Leonard paused, and then frowned. “I do.”

“Can you tell me?”

“Only if you promise not to tell Brigitta, Roth, Freddie, and Han.”

The air grew tense, and Wallace’s heart thumped wildly within his tiny chest. Despite this, he pushed himself forward. He had spent the entire afternoon trying to find out where they were. There was no going back now. 

“Okay.”

With a sigh, Leonard sat down on the nearest chair he could find.

“Last night, Uncle Volkhard took El to the opera, and they both disappeared. Your mother left at around the same time. I think they felt that something was happening in Enbarr. Something big. Something _ bad. _ I’m still trying to make sense of it all, honestly.”

The younger boy froze. “What do you mean?”

“What I’m trying to say is… El and your mother could have fled the capital. They may never come back home.”


	2. ends

* * *

**VI - Stefan**

* * *

From his room, Stefan looked outside.

A year ago, he couldn’t have cared less about what went on outside the palace’s walls. But now, window-gazing was part of his daily routine. He always chose the same view; one that looked out at the grandiose entrance stairs.

“Still no sign of Edelgard,” he muttered to himself.

The night after his younger sister fled from Enbarr, Leonard summoned the remaining Hresvelg children to a private meeting. Stefan could still remember his older brother’s downcast expression as he made his announcement to the rest of the family.

“Edelgard may never come back home.”

At first, Stefan didn’t know why those words affected him so much. He wasn’t _ that _ close to Edelgard.

Or so he thought. 

The longer Edelgard wasn’t around, the more Stefan began to recall the little quirks she had while she still lived at the palace. Twisting and playing with the ends of her twintails, humming tiny tunes when she thought no one was watching, making strange jokes...

Today, he recalled Edelgard’s love for warm things.

One day, Stefan had bought a winter coat; yet another way for him to flaunt his noble status. As usual, most of the Hresvelgs found his use of the Imperial fortune… _ questionable._ His older siblings dismissed the garment as yet another impulsive purchase. The younger ones teased him; particularly Clarimonde — who compared the coat to the pelt of a wet, shaggy mongrel.

In a fit of rage, Stefan was just about to tear the cursed coat to shreds when something warm rubbed against his back. Turning around, he found Edelgard snuggling against the garment’s down. _ Edelgard, _ of all people.

Mouth agape, Stefan had asked her what she was doing. Clearly everyone else hated the damn coat.

“Because it’s comfortable,” his younger sister replied, matter-of-factly.

For the rest of the winter, Stefan let Edelgard borrow his coat whenever she asked. Every time, he’d watch her lavender eyes light up as he slid the garment off of his back and pushed it into her tiny, outstretched arms. She would smile, hum contentedly, and then bury her face into the soft fur. 

It was only then that Stefan realized something important.

He missed Edelgard.

But before the young man could explore his feelings further, he heard fast footsteps from the hall outside. Leonard burst into the room, his shoes squeaking against the polished wood of the floor.

“Stefan,” he gasped. “You need to go_.”_

Stefan sat up on his chair. “What’s happening?”

“I’ve no time to explain. _ Get out of here, now. _”

“You’re not telling me what’s going on—”

“We’re being _ hunted.”_ hissed Leonard. 

Stefan turned pale. Normally, he’d be skeptical of Leonard’s anxiety-driven diatribes. But the way his older brother trembled and the way his eyes shone with unshed tears told him everything he needed to know. 

“They’ve already got Brigitta and Wallace,” said Leonard, looking down in shame. “The shrieks they made before they got dragged away… They won’t stop ringing in my mind…”

The younger man stood up, alarmed. “Right. Then there’s no time to lose.”

Together, the two brothers bolted out of Stefan’s room. 

They raced through halls, cut corners, and travelled the many secret passages of the Imperial household. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right, right, left, left, right, left… Stefan lost track of how many times he had to turn to escape this unknown danger, this malicious presence that threatened to harm him, Leonard and El, who he just saw walking down the hall and—

Wait.

_ El? _

_ When did Edelgard come back? _

Stefan skidded to a halt. 

“What are you _ doing?” _snapped his older brother. 

“I thought I saw El back there.”

“Yes, _ and? _”

“You mean to tell me that El _ just _ came back to the palace?”

“We really don’t have time for—”

Stefan shook his head, and turned around.

“Stefan,” growled Leonard. “If you end up getting hurt or… or something_ worse, _then-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence. His younger brother had already set off in another direction.

No sooner did Stefan make his first right turn when he ran into something. Or rather, some_ one. _A mysterious, robed figure with a bird-billed mask.

“Going somewhere?” they crooned.

Stefan’s mouth dropped open to speak, but as the words came off on the tip of his tongue, he felt a rough rag smother his mouth and nostrils. The young man tried to escape, to scream, to claw his hands against the figure’s sudden iron grip on his throat, to kick, to…

To…

to…

t o . . . 

t o . . .

and then Stefan 

sensed nothing

but darkness

and the slightest scent of chemicals

* * *

**VII - Leonard**

* * *

Leonard woke up in a cell. 

The last thing he remembered was chasing after Stefan, anxious and enraged. Then, he witnessed one of those dark figures claim his _ stupid _ little brother. His memories of the events that followed were hazy. 

However, Leonard _ was _ certain of one thing; he was now a prisoner. 

The young man carefully surveyed his surroundings. There was little light, save for the faint glow of the torches that lined the stone walls outside. However, from what he _ could _ see, his cell seemed clean and spacious, though fairly uncomfortable to sit in. To get a better idea of how the cell worked, Leonard stood up to make his way over to the other side.

Immediately, he felt the tug of something hard and metallic, dragging his ankles and wrists down to the ground. To Leonard’s horror, he realized that he was shackled to the cell’s walls. He could move only as far as his chains would let him.

Thankfully, his restraints allowed him enough movement to crawl. With time, and a significant amount of muscle work, Leonard eventually shuffled his way to the other side of the cell.

There, he found all of his siblings clumped together. In the middle of their huddle was Edelgard, curled up in a joint embrace from Adelaide and Clarimonde. 

The young man sat down, his chains clunking as he maneuvered himself to sit back onto the ground. The rest of his siblings only looked at him, eyes wide with fear. Before Leonard realized why they were staring, he felt a looming presence behind him.

“Look what we have here. All of the Hresvelg children, together at last.”

Leonard quickly turned around to face a rotund, balding man. He gave his prisoners a large, smug grin. 

The man was Ludwig von Aegir. The very same noble who led the coup against his father.

Leonard grit his teeth and shuddered. Did he orchestrate _ this _ too? 

Ludwig bent down to meet Leonard’s gaze, and spoke in a low, mocking tone. 

“I’m sure you all wonder what you’re doing here. By any chance, do you know where you are?”

Silence. Then, Leonard heard a small, trembling voice. 

“N-no,” stammered Frederick. “Where are we?”

“There’s no need to be concerned, boy,” Ludwig smirked. “You’re not _ too _ far from home.”

Leonard heard another voice; slightly lower than Frederick’s.

“He’s not wrong,” said Roth. “We’re under the Imperial palace, aren’t we? This is where father would normally keep political prisoners.”

“Clever boy!” guffawed the rotund man. “Indeed, that is where you all are.”

“Does our father know we’re here?” cried Brigitta. “What’s going to happen to us?”

Ludwig tutted, wagging his finger patronizingly at her. 

“Oh, Ionius will know soon enough, little girl. But as for your _ other _ question… that’s what I came here to tell you.”

The man coughed to clear his throat, and spoke again. 

“All eleven of you are _ very _ fortunate, you know. Underneath the palace halls you know so well, you’ll be making strides in avant-garde fields of Crestology. You’re _ pioneers_.”

Leonard stared at him silently, eyes wide. He assumed his siblings were doing the same.

Ludwig continued. “To be a pioneer is to venture into unknown territory. Many people before you all have undergone _ experi- _ ” He coughed again, and corrected himself. “Many people before you have… _ participated _ in this research, and have not… _ succeeded_, so to speak. I can only hope that all of you will do your best to succeed.”

More silence. Leonard’s heart drummed wildly within his chest. The noble was clearly hiding something. He needed to speak up.

“You’re being awfully vague about all of this… _ research. _What do you intend to gain from it?”

Ludwig’s smile vanished. When he next spoke, his tone was far more sinister.

“Do you know why the uprising happened, boy?”

“It was because of my Father, wasn’t it?”

“Indeed it was. He was an _ ineffectual _ emperor, to put it politely.”

Leonard couldn’t make any retort. Though the eldest of the Hresvelg brothers admired Ionius IX in many ways, he had to admit that his father’s management of the empire had not been the strongest — even if Leonard found his loss of political power painful to watch.

Ludwig observed the young man’s uneasy silence, and then picked up from where he had left off.

“For the past two hundred years, the Hresvelg bloodline has been in decline. Our emperors have been getting weaker every generation, and the nobility has been suffering for it. We thought it was about time we took things into our own hands. If decent emperors were in decline... then why wouldn’t we try to create a _ perfect _ emperor instead?”

“What do you mean, ‘we’?” frowned Leonard.

“Do I look like someone who researches Crestology to you?”

Again, the young man couldn’t give him a response. 

“I thought not,” Ludwig smirked. “But my… _ subordinates _ helped me orchestrate the trial runs. Don’t worry, they’ll be here for you shortly.”

The noble made his way to the cell’s gate. 

“I look forward to seeing which one of you will be able to surpass your father,” he crooned. “I’m sure that anyone with _ two Crests _ could.”

Then, he slammed the gate shut, and walked away.

As his footsteps grew quieter and quieter, Leonard mulled over Ludwig’s parting words.

_ Two Crests…? What could he possibly mean? _

* * *

**VIII - Hannelore**

* * *

_ Did I do something wrong? _

_ Did we do something wrong? _

_ It’s so dark and cold here, and I’m shaking. _

_ I don’t know if it’s because I’m chilly, or I’m nervous. _

_ Maybe it’s both. _

_ There are rats that bite us, and frightening screams, and mysterious people in black masks. _

_ The masked people took away our pretty clothes and made us wear thin white smocks. They’re not very good at keeping us warm, so we’re all huddled together. _

_ I can’t tell how long we’ve been here. There are no windows or sundials. Addy’s singing songs for us and telling us stories. She says it’s a good way to pass the time and calm us down. _

_ We’ve all been praying to the goddess, too. Addy says that she’s kind and generous to those in need; so if we keep on asking for her help, something good will happen. Also, we’re from a family that she really, really likes, so there’s no reason why she’d ignore us. _

_ I don’t know why the goddess hasn’t responded yet. But I want to get out of here, so I will keep praying. Maybe she’s busy answering other cries for help. _

_ Lately, Clara’s been glaring at all of the masked people. She used to spit and claw at them through the bars. But when she came back from her first test, she didn’t speak once. _

_ At first, I thought she was just really mad, but then we all got given that icky gruel for a meal, and blood began to pour out of her mouth. She couldn’t make any words anymore. _

_ Since then, we haven’t bothered the masked people. _

_ We’ve all been getting thinner, and paler. The chains that bind us chafe our wrists and ankles. We used to eat saghert and cream and peach sorbet. Now, we eat rotten, ugly things. _

_ Besides Clara, some of my brothers and sisters have changed too. Not all of us have gone through tests yet, but I don’t think those who have are doing very well. _

_ Gisela’s never liked being around others, but lately she’s been cowering in the corner, mumbling things under her breath. Things we can’t understand. Maybe it’s because she can’t see without her glasses. Freddy always got nervous whenever I stole his. _

_ Stefan went first, so his gown is a bit dirtier than the rest of ours. He’s been moaning nonstop, and rubbing his hands and feet. He’s a bit far away from me, so I couldn’t see why he was doing that… but I think I saw marks on his palms and feet. The rats have started to take an interest in him, too. _

_ When it was Brigitta’s turn, Roth went with her. Brigitta’s always been really nice and friendly to everyone. But Roth’s been holding her and whispering to her since they came back. She’s been shaking and crying a lot. There’s a lot of ink on both of their bodies, too. I don’t want to know what it’s for. _

_ I think Wally and El haven’t taken their tests yet because they both have the goddess’ Crest. One time, I heard one of the masked people say something about “saving the best for last”, so I might be right. Me, Addy, Freddy, and Leo are also waiting. _

_ And then I’m not waiting, because a masked person comes into the cell and says its my turn. I’m let out, and taken down the hallway that Roth, Brigitta, Stefan and Gisela went down earlier. _

_ Before I leave, I look back at everyone, and they look back at me; their eyes wide and glistening. _

_ My eyes sting too, but I’m shoved along by the masked person before I can say my goodbyes. _

_ I’m taken to a room that is shockingly bright and white. There are some more masked people, and I think some nobles too — including that fat man. They’re all looking at a table in the center. It has stains everywhere. _

_ Two people make their way out of the crowd. One is a man with a giant head, bulging with veins. The other is a tall man, with skin and hair as pale as the room we’re in. _

_ They look at me. Then, they turn to the masked people, and nod. _

_ The masked people make me lay on the table. They peer down at me like the vultures from my picture books. Their beaks look like they’re going to peck my neck, my chest, my arms and my legs. _

_ Suddenly, I feel hard, sharp and wooden things align themselves against my hands and feet. _

_ Before I realize what they are, they hammered into me, and the pain shoots through my body and its unbearable and i can’t stop screaming help me heLP ME HELP ME HELP ME SAVE ME ADDY LEO PAPA HELP ME PLEASE GODDESS SAVE ME _ _HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP _

_ before the knife carves me _

_ and my skin is peeled away _

_ i black out _

* * *

**IX - Roth & ________**

* * *

One by one, the Hresvelg family fell before Roth’s eyes. To hold onto what little semblance of stability he had left, he chose to pretend he never knew them.

_____ had died first. It was inevitable, since he had been the first to undergo testing. As the trials continued, the welts and scars on his body had multiplied. At times, Roth wondered if his captors had _ really _been conducting research, or had been harming the young man for the sake of sadism.

He had never learned. ______ had never come back after the fourth test. 

Then, it had been __________. Despite losing her voice, she had still caused trouble within the operating room. She had been deemed a failure after her third trial. She had been “too aggressive”, “too unstable”; undesirable qualities for their prospective unparalleled emperor. 

Roth later learned that __________ had been tossed to the mongrels that haunted Enbarr’s back alleys. He had tried not to imagine their canines tearing her diced flesh apart.

After that had been _________. Once bossy and proud, the young boy had slowly devolved into a shuddering, incomprehensible shell of himself. By his second trial, he had no longer needed his glasses; his eyes had become diseased. 

A blind, unstable heir wouldn’t do. So _________ had been quietly disposed of. His blood still stained the stone hallways.

Only after _________ had died had Roth’s captors paid attention to their subjects’ well-being. The last thing they wanted was a feeble emperor.

The measures they ended up taking were laughable, if not outright dehumanizing. 

Roth and the others had been given more food to subsist on; but it had been the same unpleasant combination of gruel and stale bread each time. They had been handed new smocks, but they would inevitably be soiled by sordid surroundings. 

But most humiliating of all was what had happened to their hair. Roth’s hair hadn’t been touched, for it had been too short to carry any significant infections. Yet the other prisoners’ locks, matted with grease, grime and blood, had been clumsily hacked off. 

________ had mourned her loss of hair the most. Roth knew how much she had loved her pigtails. Yet as always, the most he could do to comfort her had been to stroke what little was left on her head.

After that, Roth’s cellmates had fallen faster.

______ had died from exhaustion. Her body, unaccustomed to physical exertion, hadn’t been able to take the pressure of a lifetime’s amount of wounds and scars. She had collapsed before the Major Crest was implanted into her.

_________ had continued to demand his captors for the release of his family. Those demands had soon been reduced to exhausted, painful moans; for he could no longer move his own body. Eventually, he had been dragged out of the cell. Like ______, he had never returned.

_________ 's mind had grown more and more feeble - for she had been so young, and so unaccustomed to pain and fear. She had begun babbling in a language the others couldn’t understand. Soon, the prison rats had found themselves a new feast. 

Then had been _______. His captors had hoped that he would be able to withstand the pressure of a second Crest. But like _________, he had been too young. When the boy had returned to the cell, he had twitched and foamed at the mouth. As soon as he had sensed the presence of another Crest-bearer, he had lunged for ________. But ________ had shielded the younger girl. With what little strength ________ had left, she had held _______ 's neck until he had stopped moving.

________ had never been the same after that. She had too little energy to comfort whoever remained with her stories and prayers. The most the young woman could do had been to lay beside ________, gently running her fingers through the younger girl’s cropped, light-brown hair. While cradling a sleeping ________, she had silently passed on.

Now, only three prisoners remained. ________, ________, and Roth himself. But then, they came for him and ________. 

As Roth was led into the testing room, he stopped pretending. After all, everything would be over in a matter of minutes.

He turned to Brigitta, trembling and crying, and squeezed her hand. 

She squeezed back.

* * *

**X - Edelgard**

* * *

“A success! We _ finally _ have a success!”

A loud cheer erupted from the operating room, rousing Edelgard to consciousness. The last thing she recalled before blacking out was the searing pain of the knives and stakes that violated her flesh. 

The young girl tried to move, but quickly realized that she was still pinned to the table. She whimpered as the searing pain came rushing back to her palms, her feet, her chest… 

One of Edelgard’s masked captors heard her, and with a cough, they silenced the rest of the shadowy figures within the room. Then, they held her right wrist, and pulled the first wooden stake out of her palm.

The shrieks she let out rang through her brain as she was carried back up to the Imperial palace’s marble halls. Everything went by in a haze, and soon, she was back in her room. In her first moments of captivity, she imagined how relieved she’d be when she would finally be reunited with that familiar garden view, or her soft canopy bed, or her stuffed animals.

Now, she felt nothing but a gaping hole in her chest. 

A handful of maidservants entered the room. She wondered if their summoning was her Father’s doing. He might have caught sight of her on her journey back, just as he was forced to during her captivity.

One of them, a young woman with flaxen hair, stepped forward to speak.

“Princess Edelgard, we highly suggest that you tend to your hygiene. May we help you?”

Edelgard only had the energy to nod groggily. Since there were no mirrors in the dungeons below, she only had a faint idea of how her ordeal had physically changed her. So with the utmost care, two maidservants carried her to a nearby bathroom.

They undressed her and let her soak in the giant tub. She was scrubbed with oils and soaps and a variety of unnecessarily pungent products until her skin stung and itched from all of the rubbing. But before the maidservants could dry her with towels and clothe her in her nightgown, Edelgard spoke.

“Can I please have a mirror?” she croaked.

The maidservants turned to one another and grimaced, but they had no choice but to obey her. With some reluctance, they carried her over to a large mirror in the corner of the bathroom, and set her down on her feet.

Logically, Edelgard expected to see damaged skin and shorter hair. But knowing and seeing were two _ entirely _ different matters.

So as soon the young girl saw herself, she froze in horror.

Her fingers and toes were discolored, blotched, and covered with rat-bites. There were jagged, raised cuts littered across the pale skin of her body, and unsightly reminders of the chains that tightly cuffed her wrists and ankles. Only her neck and face were devoid of marring. 

But her hair— oh, her _hair. _She knew it was cut, yes, but it was cropped so close to her head that she could run her fingers through her locks and still see her digits poke out. 

Most shocking of all, it was now as white as bone. 

Edelgard begin to tremble. The flaxen-haired servant from earlier stepped forward, ready to tend to her along with the other servants. 

“Your assistance is no longer necessary,” the young girl muttered.

When they did nothing, Edelgard slowly turned around. Her brow was furrowed, and her gaze was clouded with an emotion none of the maidservants had ever seen from her before. Quiet rage.

“I said, _ your assistance is no longer necessary,_” she repeated, hissing her words. 

All of the maidservants apologized, bowed, and quickly left the premises. 

Edelgard turned back to face herself in the mirror. 

Her mind was instantly flooded with screams, stains and sordid surroundings; visions that would haunt her in many nightmares to come. 

But one memory surfaced above the rest. 

In Adelaide’s final moments, she cradled Edelgard. By that point, her older sister was so weak that she could barely speak. Yet Adelaide still did her best to soothe the younger girl, running her fingers through what was left of her hair.

When Edelgard next woke up, her oldest sister still held her. She was stiff and cold.

In that instant, the young girl broke.

With a guttural wail, she fell to the floor. Edelgard cried and cried and cried until her eyes were dry and she could only choke on air.

Why was _ she _ chosen?

Why not Hannelore? She had barely begun to enjoy her childhood.

Why not Wallace? He could’ve grown up to be a strong, sensitive young man.

Why not Frederick? He maintained a commanding presence at such a young age.

Why not Brigitta? She made everyone’s day better.

Why not Roth? He was observant of everything. 

Why not Clarimonde? She could’ve gone to the Officer’s Academy to become a pegasus knight.

Why not Gisela? She could’ve told her own tales, and become a staple of Fódlan’s libraries.

Why not Stefan? He could’ve become a paragon of nobility.

Why not Leonard? He could’ve saved the empire in future skirmishes.

Why not Adelaide? She could’ve been the kindest, most thoughtful teacher in the world.

Her siblings died for her. They held her, comforted her, vouched for her, not knowing that they were sacrifices for her. 

There was no way she could repay them. 

Unless…

As soon as the idea dawned on her, Edelgard underwent a drastic transformation.

If _ those people _wanted her to be the heir to the throne, she would. She would be an unparalleled emperor, just like they predicted.

What they wouldn’t predict was how she’d act once she took to the throne. Edelgard didn’t know what she’d do yet, but her heart was set on exterminating them as soon as possible.

The young girl had no doubt that it would take time, effort, and an unprecedented amount of human sacrifice. 

But if it meant making a world where people like her family couldn’t be hurt again, she’d stake her life on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am a monster of my own making.
> 
> (thank you to ana, aurora, frog and oricalle for betaing this chapter).

**Author's Note:**

> here it comes - my first multichapter work!
> 
> and by multichapter i mean two chapters. i guess it doesn’t hurt to start small, haha.
> 
> anyways, this is an idea i’ve been toying around with for a while. i’ve always wanted to explore the hresvelg family dynamics. i drew designs for el’s brothers and sisters ages ago, but writing them is so much fun! i think adelaide is my fav so far...
> 
> many thanks to ana and _especially_ aurora for betaing this chapter. i appreciate your input!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Nameday](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22249291) by [Oricalle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oricalle/pseuds/Oricalle)


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